


When Doctor Met Donna

by Basmathgirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dare, Dating, Eventual Smut, F/M, Films, Gift Fic, Romance, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an AU where Jenny was never left behind on Messaline, Martha challenges Donna and the Doctor to a dare; one they are determined to achieve.</p><p>Written for the Tatennant Secret Santa of 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jrugg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrugg/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** all I own is my muse which had several gifs wafted under its nose in order to tempt it.

Donna ambled into the console room, all smiles as she put away her mobile phone. “Guess what, Doctor! That was Martha, and she fancies meeting up with us again, but for purely friendly reasons rather than ‘the world might be ending’ one the last time we met.”

“It was the only time you met her,” he felt the need to correct as he considered the question. It might be a bad idea to go back and visit Martha. “I’m not sure..,” he started to decline.

“Oh go on!” she encouraged him. “How often do we genuinely get a day off to do nothing apart from please ourselves?”

“Not often,” he reluctantly admitted.

“Please,” she begged, edging nearer to give weight to her plea.

“Can I come too?” Jenny eagerly added in, making it hard for him to resist.

Huffing, he sighed, “Alright then.”

Donna squeed and threw herself on him for an impulsive hug. “This is a ‘I bloody love you’ situation, in case you were wondering,” she whispered by his cheek.

“Duly noted,” he mumbled, pleased with this result. “So where and when are we meeting her?”

Seconds later the coordinates for Friday 15th were entered into the console.

-o-o-

Their playdate had involved going out for a meal together in a London restaurant – nothing too fancy - and then going back to the TARDIS’s retro cinema to watch a film classic. In a vote with three against one, a romantic comedy was argued for against the Doctor’s preference of a historical biography, and he sat for some minutes with a pout on his face in the auditorium. Well, he did, until Donna got back with a load of sweets she had acquired from her secret stash hidden deep within her wardrobe. Immediately upon arriving back, she took him to task for being less fun than a wet sock, much to Martha’s clear amusement. He cheered up once she dropped a bag of chocolate buttons into his lap and handed around some Butterkiss popcorn to share.

In the end it was the TARDIS who got to choose the actual film they watched, and they all greeted the opening title with delight. The strains of When Harry Met Sally practically boomed from the TARDIS home cinema speakers.

“That was interesting. Most enlightening,” Jenny commented once it had ended and they were chatting about the film. “What did you think?”

“I love that film,” Martha enthused, “especially the bit with them kissing on New Year’s Eve like that.”

“Why do they always have to kiss then or at Christmas to realise what they mean to each other?” the Doctor wondered. “They could just as easily have done that after they had erm…” He gave an embarrassed cough when he found Jenny regarding him with interest.

“Never mind all that! Don’t you think what they said is totally unrealistic?” Donna questioned him as they all stood to move from their seats. “I mean, Harry claimed that the man will always want to bed the woman within a platonic relationship, and that obviously isn’t true.”

“Why isn’t it?” Martha wondered from her position on the other side of Donna as she led the way to the nearby kitchen for a coffee. “I’d have thought it would be.”

“Because you’ve only got to look at Time boy here to know that isn’t the case between him and me,” Donna argued thumbing towards her closest companion. 

Jenny walked in interested silence from her position next to the Doctor, idly watching how his hand would almost touch and take hold of Donna’s every now and then. These romantic things they were talking about were matters that she knew very little about, so she was keen to learn from these two women in her father’s life. 

Martha nodded in agreement. “That’s true. He never shows any sign of fancying anyone though; although he did go on and on about Rose when I travelled with him.”

“We’ll never know how he acted around her,” Donna mischievously reasoned. “Probably like a dog on heat, judging by how you said he dragged her name up time and time and again.”

“Oi! I am here, you know!” the Doctor indignantly defended himself. “We were together.”

She snorted her disbelief. “Which rather dismisses your relationship from the platonic debate we are having,” Donna reasoned, not wanting to poke his old wounds. “Bringing us neatly back to you and me. There’s no way you’d ever say we are together.”

“It’s not impossible…,” he started to say.

“Just a little bit unlikely,” Donna and Martha simultaneously chimed, and then giggled together in glee.

The Doctor merely huffed.

“What do you think, Jenny?” Martha suddenly asked her. “Since you get to see more of them than anyone else, do you think your dad could remain unfeeling toward our Donna here?”

“Oh! I don’t know,” Jenny freely admitted. “I have no knowledge how any of the human mating rituals are performed. The film we just watched was most informative. Do all relationships have to be played out in such a way?”

“No, only the stubborn ones,” Martha considered. 

“Not this again!” the Doctor commented to Donna in exasperation. “Why does everyone think we should be together?”

“Beats me,” she retorted. “It’s not as if we act lovey-dovey or anything. All we do is turn up and BAM! The assumption is automatically made.”

“Like when Colonel Cobb thought you were Dad’s woman?” Jenny sought to clarify. “Or on the Oodsphere when Dad was referred to as Dr Noble?”

“That’s it exactly,” the Doctor confirmed, glad to note that Jenny had listened carefully to their previous tales. “But we clearly aren’t married.”

Jenny considered this, and then proposed, “You know, you always stress that you aren’t married whereas Donna states you aren’t a couple. Why is there a difference? And does this mean that Donna doesn’t think you are marriageable, Dad?”

Both the Doctor and Donna looked stunned at this news whilst Martha stifled a laugh behind her hand. 

“Well…,” the Doctor spluttered, sharing a pathetic look with Donna, “I’m sure Donna has her reasons for wanting no nonsense.”

“Just forget I said that,” Donna hastily said to him in begging tones. “We had just got back together and I was merely trying to emphasise that I wasn’t desperate for a bloke. It was rude of me, and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What on earth did you say to him?” Martha inevitably queried, enjoying the embarrassed blush on both of her friends’ cheeks. 

“Oh look, we’re there already,” Donna said as they reached the TARDIS kitchen to deflect the question. Opening the door, she quickly strode in and up passed the kitchen table, to the sink in order to put the kettle on.

-o-o-

Having gained their various drinks and found enough chairs to sit at the wooden kitchen table, the conversation inevitably returned to the nature of the Doctor’s relationship with Donna.

Martha conspiratorially leaned in and whispered to Donna, “Are you frightened of making a move on the Doctor because of Jenny?”

Having heard it anyway, the Doctor concentrated on drinking his hot chocolate and pretended he wasn’t included. He even pulled out from his pocket a copy of the evening paper they’d picked up on their way, to peruse and hide behind whilst the ladies continued talking.

“No! Whatever makes you think that?” Donna instantly protested. “I would never do that to him. And anyway, there’s probably laws against it.”

“Do you honestly believe that?” Martha mischievously asked. “I dare you to spend a whole weekend alone together without something romantic happening.”

Donna snorted her scorn. “That’d be easy to do.”

“What’s a dare?” Jenny wondered. “I’ve not heard that word before.”

“It’s a challenge,” Martha informed her before the Doctor could open his mouth. “Something you set somebody to do.”

“Like a military assignment,” Jenny stated. “Do you mean something like that?”

“I hardly…,” the Doctor started to deny the assumption, but he was interrupted.

“You could say that,” Martha agreed, “except dares are carried out by people who don’t necessarily want to do them.”

“Normally dares are things like ‘kiss the person opposite you’ or ‘wear your shoes on the wrong feet’, and are pranks played by friends,” Donna supplied. “There is one major problem though; we have Jenny to worry about so I can’t take your dare.”

Jenny instantly protested, “I am not a child! I can be left alone while you undertake your quest.” 

“No you can’t,” the Doctor insisted, lowering his paper to glare imperially at his daughter. 

“How about Jenny comes and stays the weekend with me,” Martha suggested. “What do you think, Jenny?”

“I think that would be a wonderful learning experience for me,” Jenny enthused, hoping to nip any objections from her father in the bud. “It would be invaluable for me to observe Martha’s family.”

Knowing he was defeated, the Doctor grimaced. “Oh, alright then. But you must contact me immediately if there is any problem.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor,” Martha confidentially replied, amused by Jenny’s triumphant grin, “There shouldn’t be.”

“What exactly are the conditions of this dare?” Donna warily enquired. “And what happens if we achieve it?”

“Well…” Martha carefully considered her coffee mug. “You have to go on dates as part of your romantic weekend, lasting from now until Sunday night. IF you manage to remain platonic…”

“Which we will,” the Doctor insisted.

“… then I shall get my mum to cook you all a slap up Christmas dinner with all the trimmings,” Martha finished saying.

The Doctor looked eagerly at his companion. “Oh Donna! I rather fancy one of Francine’s dinners. What do you say?”

Seeing three keen faces looking back at her, Donna answered, “I suppose we can risk going on a date or two. What harm can it be?”

-o-o-

A short while later the Doctor and Donna waved off Jenny as she was driven away in Martha’s car, his arm slung loosely around her shoulder and her arm wrapped around his waist. “See! We can even do this and not be a couple,” Donna had informed Martha as she and Jenny left the TARDIS. “Easy peasy.”

A confident grin was on the Doctor’s face. “Donna and I will manage this dare without any problem whatsoever. Have a celebratory cake waiting for us when we meet again on Sunday.”

“Oh, I’ll have a cake ready alright,” Martha vowed; and silently made a mental note to tell Jenny later that it would be an engagement cake, if her suspicions were true.

“Bye!” both the Doctor and Donna called out, adding in a wave. Soon their companions were gone; leaving them alone together for the first time in quite a while. 

“It feels odd without Jenny being around, doesn’t it,” Donna commented.

He nodded his agreement. “Very much so. The place feels too quiet already.”

“In that case,” she proposed, “let’s go and make a list of possible date activities to fill in this new silence.”

“Good idea.” He released her shoulders and took hold of her hand. “A cup of tea as we deal with this task is in order too, I think.”

With renewed determination, they both happily went off to give their dare some deep thought.

-o-o-


	2. Chapter 2

Donna stood within inches of the Doctor’s face, staring him right in the eyes. “Okay, on a scale of 1 to 10, how successful would you say this date is?”

“Erm... 3,” he hesitantly said. Being tied up together in a cooking pot in the middle of an alien proverbial primitive savages’ village definitely couldn’t count as a 10; he was sure of it. When she scowled, he amended it to, “4...! 2! I don’t know. Give me a clue here. Higher or lower?”

“We are not contestants on Play Your Cards Right, Doctor!” she huffed. “This date would only manage to be awarded a 3 if you got your thingy out.”

“My thingy...?” he warily queried. “On our first date?!”

“I meant your sonic screwdriver, you prawn!” She blew a strand of hair desperately out of her face. “It’s getting bloody hot in here. You should have got it out by now and saved us from all this.”

“I’m still trying to, Donna. Give a Time Lord a chance,” he indignantly declared as he wriggled about.

“Don’t tell me,” she scorned him, “you’re doing a Roger Rabbit job on me.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“I meant in as much that you cannot save the day until it fits the plot,” she explained. “In his case it was only possible when funny; but with you it works so that you save us from certain death.”

Feeling rather wounded, he asked, “What does that make you? And why can’t I be Bugs Bunny instead?”

“First of all, that makes me Jessica Rabbit,” she sternly told him, and silently vowed to swat him once they had escaped from the cauldron they rested in. “And second, you being Bugs Bunny means you have some serious sexual issues you need to tell me.”

Confusion blossomed on his face. “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever noticed that he only kisses men or is only able to do so when dressed as a woman?”

“Oh!” He was silent for a good twenty seconds. “Okay then, I’m Roger Rabbit and you can be Jessica Rabbit. We’ll debate the aesthetics later. Move your leg because we’re about to break out of here.”

The sonic swung up, the ropes broke apart, and they made a run for it.

-o-o-

The next date had involved landing on a sumptuous planet, with trees lined with bows of heavenly scented flowers in all colours of the rainbow.

Clapping her hands together in glee, Donna turned to the Doctor and declared, “Oh Spaceman! This is beautiful. It really is an excellent choice for a date that isn’t a date.”

“But for the time being is considered a real and proper date,” he nonchalantly corrected before grabbing hold of her hand and dragging her further into the foliage. “Come and see how interesting it can be.”

There were lots of “Oh!”s and “Would you look at that!” as they first ran and then sauntered through the lush delights of the planet. 

Keen to explore, Donna left the Doctor’s side for a few seconds and found, to her amazement, a small hairy creature less than half her size who looked like a version of the Grinch painted in light brown paint. “Hello,” she crooned to it as it lifted its dark seductive eyes to her. “You look very interesting.” She then turned her head to call out, “Doctor! What’s this one’s name?”

“What have you found? Oooh! Isn’t he marvellous?” the Doctor remarked on seeing the creature. “Those eyes of his are fascinated with you. Must be the unusual colour of your hair. Ginger isn’t exactly a known option in this part of the galaxy. He’s called a mitovet.”

“I am not!” the creature indignantly denied. “I’m called Lagron. Would you please tell your wife to stop doing that?”

The Doctor almost stepped away in shock before recovering. “Hello Lagron. I’m the Doctor, this is Donna…”

“Who isn’t his wife,” she interrupted needlessly, twirling a finger between them in demonstration. “We’re only pretending to be a couple.”

“…my non-wife,” the Doctor continued, “although she is right about the pretending part. What exactly is she doing that I need to stop?”

Little Lagron huffed his displeasure. “She is displaying her desire to mate with me.”

“I am not!” she repudiated. “Not in any possible sense of those terms, Sunshine, since we’ve only just met, and I’m sure you’re lovely in your own way but… Ew! No thanks.”

Lagron brought up his paw as if he were being extremely thoughtful. “If it is not for my benefit then you desperately need to acquire a resolate,” he told the Doctor, “or you will fail.”

“Fail to do what?” Donna turned her puzzled gaze onto the Doctor. “What’s he on about, and what is a resolate?”

“It’s a…” He then blushed to the tips of his ears, and tugged on his earlobe in order to self-comfort. “It’s the ultimate ending to a date, I suppose. A ‘resolate’ is their word for the marriage bed when mating,” he carefully enunciated, clicking his teeth together when he finished.

“Oh,” Donna gasped in understanding. “Don’t tell me, having ginger hair makes them think I’m up for a little bit of how’s your father.”

“Not quite how I would have phrased it, but true,” he allowed. “Perhaps we ought to take our date elsewhere.”

“My thoughts entirely,” she agreed. “It seems like the whole universe wants us to crush together and do the deed.”

“Once you have displayed your intentions to your husband, you would indeed be expected to fulfil the action,” Lagron commented to them, to their surprise. “It would be terribly rude of us to interrupt your union.”

“In that case,” the Doctor stated decisively, reaching out to take Donna’s hand, “we’d better go and leave you in peace.”

“No, WE leave YOU in peace,” Lagron emphasised, squatting down to jump from his perch on a tree root. “I shall fare thee well. May your offspring be healthy!” And then he disappeared from view like a puff of smoke. 

“That didn’t go quite according to plan,” Donna drily noted.

“Do you erm…” He looked hopefully at her. “…fancy a race back to the TARDIS?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, go on then. But no cheating! I’m on to you, Time boy. When I beat you, you’ll have to cook us dinner.” She set off through the undergrowth.

“You’d have to catch me first,” he threw back at her as he overtook her by a dodgy group of trees.

So she sideswiped him, causing him to stagger sideways, giving her a slight advantage. “In your dreams!” she taunted him.

But they were having too much fun to notice that a whole village of mitovets were watching their progress with keen interest, from high up in the trees, and giggling together at the bizarre mating antics of an alien species.

-o-o-

All that running created quite an appetite. “Let’s go and grab ourselves a bit to eat,” the Doctor suggested once they were back home in the TARDIS.

He had already offered several reasons as to how Donna had beaten him to the doors, so of course he was trying to argue his way out of cooking a meal. When she had used her glare of death on him for being so idiotic, he had fallen back on that greatest of excuses: the dare and the dates they were required to have.

“Okay, you’ve won me over this time,” Donna conceded, “but I expect a decent meal in a proper restaurant, with food I can not only recognise but would actually want to eat.”

The Doctor pressed a hand to his chest. “You wound me, Donna Noble. Anyone would think I provide unwanted eating experiences.”

“I could provide a list but for now I’ll just say the Third Moon of Ornican,” she countered, and smirked when he paled.

“Fair enough,” he capitulated. “So about this date we’re going on, would you prefer somewhere a little closer to your home?”

“How close are we talking here, because if you suggest the Horse and Hounds pub just down the road from Mum’s, I won’t be entirely happy,” she warned. 

“No no no no,” he disagreed, and pointed at the list of suggestions they’d made that currently sat on the kitchen table. “I was thinking we could kill three birds with one stone.” There was more pointing but this time at three particular suggestions.

“My you make that sound sexy,” she mocked, and peered at the words. “Go on then; where could we go to do them?”

A sly triumphant grin spread across the Doctor’s face. “I know just the place,” he declared.

-o-o-

Much later that day, Donna sat back on that kitchen chair, considering the list they had made with such hope. She mentally made notes as she read out the following:

“Romantic date

1\. Stroll through a primitive landscape. Check.

Tied up and thrown in a cooking pot. No. Not on the original list, but almost obligatory if you’ve watched old movies, apparently. Except the natives hadn’t been concocted by dressing up ordinary people, so the embarrassment factor wasn’t as high as it could’ve been. Except for the whole being wedged up against your best friend stuff and being so close you were practically wearing his trousers for him.”

For some reason, imaging him wearing her clothing made her giggle. Thinking of him getting into her clothing, however, did something else entirely, so she quickly stopped doing that right away. 

“2. Lush forest full of beautiful fauna and devoid of any other humans. Check.

Saucy forest creatures claiming they should rush away and mate immediately. Also not on the list, funnily enough.”

They were only a pretend couple so it wasn’t going to happen. Not if they wanted to win the dare, they’d agreed. But they’d had a good run, quite a bit of a laugh as they chased each other back to the TARDIS, and the whole day hadn’t gone for a Burton so they could consider their last date items.

“3. Romantic meal for two. Check. Completely garlic free, food without faces to spoil anything. The only problem had been that they’d run out of banana milkshakes.

4\. Music playing nearby. Check. Well, that’s if a loudspeaker system could be classed as being nearby.” 

Although she would have been mortified if a lone violinist had come up to the table to serenade her. That sort of thing also only happened in movies; and to other people. But when she had mentioned this, the Doctor had been sweet enough to offer to show her his fiddle when they got back to the TARDIS. Part of her wondered if that was his equivalent of offering to show her his etchings…

“5. Sunset as they walked along a beautiful secluded sandy beach. Check.” 

And totally worth getting sand in her shoes, but there was that other little matter to gripe about as he attempted to actually BE romantic and turned her towards the sunset whilst holding her within his arms.

As for the sudden sea surge so that they were soaked right through to the skin... Oops! That wasn’t on the list. Most definitely not. She had just asked “What’s that noise like an oncoming train?” when a water spout shot up into the air. You can guess the rest.

I mean, it had started alright. They’d landed somewhere along the coast in Cornwall, in a place called something like Cardick Bay. Or it could have been Cardiss Bay; but it certainly wasn’t Cardiff, of that she was sure. They’d found a reasonable restaurant, had some nice grub, gone for a walk along the cliffs, like you do, and then stopped for a gander. Oh, I don’t mean they had considered stealing a goose, but they had wanted to have a good look at the scenery.

The sunset had been truly beautiful as they gazed out towards wherever Ireland was. “We ought to do the whole date thing,” the Doctor had suggested, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder from behind. “That’s better! Much more romantic,” he had whispered. “What do you think of it here?”

And that was when she had heard a roaring noise, just before they’d been hit by so much water it’s a wonder they weren’t washed away. 

“Oh for F- sake!” she had wailed, as they stood dripping wet and totally stunned by the occurrence. “Why?!”

Looking like a drowned rat, the Doctor had done his best to console her. “I’m sorry, Donna. Coming here seemed like a good idea for our date, but we’re just not destined to be a real couple.”

“I know,” she sighed, and did her best to smile at him. “At least you’ll get your dinner from Francine now.”

“But you wanted some romance,” he stated knowingly.

“I did,” she confirmed, “but some of us aren’t meant to have that happen, in any shape or form.”

“Shall we go home and treat ourselves to a hot chocolate?” he suggested in consolation. “Get ourselves warmed up.”

“Yeah, why not,” she answered, and gave him a weak smile. If a date was going to go belly up she’d rather it did with him than anyone else she could think of. 

On that thought, the pair of them had slopped back to the TARDIS.

-o-o-


	3. Chapter 3

After a refreshing shower, and changing into their night attire, they both reconvened for that promised hot chocolate. Both found the first sip enormously satisfying. 

“Ooh, that is almost better than sex!” Donna had proclaimed as she held her mug tightly within her grasp.

“Almost?” the Doctor had inevitably wondered, raising his left eyebrow as he always did, and took a luxuriating sip of his own hot chocolate. “I’d say this was definitely better.”

There was a snort of scorn. “You’ve been doing it wrong, mate!” she confidently muttered in her mug.

“Some would argue…,” he went to counter, and then blushed to the very tips of his ears.

That fired her curiosity. “What would they argue, Spaceman?”

“Well,” he blustered, “whether or not somebody being involved is necessary.”

Ah, she could tell where this was leading, and she had the answer ready and waiting. “There’s nothing wrong with going solo, you know. In fact, many would say it is the preferable option.” Picking up her mug to drain the last drop, she added, “It certainly is, in my experience.”

“That good, eh?” he queried before he could stop the thought escaping out his mouth. Caught out, he went immediately sheepish. “Not that I have any personal experience of encountering…” He gave a cough. “Nor am I trying to find out about your solo exploits, although you have previously supplied damning information about your boyfriends.”

She nodded her confirmation. “I have indeed. Not worth a light, the lot of ‘em! Nope, I’ve found a much better friend for all that.” 

“Me?!” he squeaked in shock.

“No, not you.” She merrily laughed at the expression on his face. “I meant the little ‘friend’ the TARDIS supplied me with.”

“She did!” he exclaimed, both in surprise and envy. “Well, that’s…. that’s very decent of her.”

“It is,” Donna agreed, giving the wall behind her a fond pat of gratitude. “I may be past it, but I’m not dead yet.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t even say you are past it,” he faintly complimented her, distracted by the thought of his TARDIS providing sex toys for his companions. Or rather, this companion in particular. “And recreation is very important.”

“Recreation. Is that what you call it?” she smirked knowingly. This could be a new topic of conversation to tease him with. 

Her amusement continued when he immediately floundered for a possible response. “I don’t think…” He then adjusted his collar that was suddenly too tight. “Anyway, shall I make us some tea and we have it in the lounge?”

Taking pity on him, she replied, “Go on then. And if you’re really good, I’ll let you brush my hair when we get there.”

A beaming smile was her answer.

-o-o-

The hair brushing had morphed into talk about girls’ night ins, what they got up, and was it exclusively for woman. “I’ll tell you what,” Donna had suggested, “how about I give you a taster by doing your nails?”

His hands were thrust in her direction before she had a chance to draw breath. “Does that include all of my nails?” he asked, trying to keep out the tinge of hope in his voice.

“Why not?” she agreed. “Budge over.” And, giving his thigh a shove sideways, she sat down next to him on his self-assigned sofa.

Of course she HAD to comment on his hairy legs as she administered clear nail varnish to his toe nails, since a distinguished Time Lord could not risk being caught with an unfashionable colour on his tootsies; but he had expected all that. He was just glad to be having so much fun with his non-wife, sitting as he was with her knelt between his propped up feet. 

In fact, he felt so relaxed in her company that he risked bringing up the topic of conversation from much much earlier. “Just out of interest, why are you so sure?”

“Sure of what?” she wondered in confusion as she blew on the almost dried varnish. “There are loads of things I could be sure about.”

He had to concede that was true. “I was referring to your statement to Martha about my… how can I put this? My apparent reluctance within our platonic relationship to erm…” He looked helplessly at her for assistance before deciding on a particular turn of phrase. “…Assume nonsense will take place.”

“Why did I?” she partially echoed. “Because if I do this…” She pushed him backwards on the leather sofa he sat on until he rested against the back cushions and then deliberately straddled his lap. “…then you would not react in the slightest. Just like you are right now… OH! That feels familiar.” Her argument had suddenly reared its head, as it were, and dented her confidence. “Maybe I’m more than slightly wrong,” she noted in surprise as she hurriedly wriggled off him.

“Donna, I’m so… so sorry,” he stammered, horrified beyond all measure at his bodily reaction.

“No, it’s all my fault,” she faintly denied. “I’ll leave you with that.” A finger was waved vaguely in the direction of his lower torso and then hastily retracted from view. “And I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Where are you going?” he heard himself almost wail. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I know,” she claimed, but the embarrassed tinge to her cheeks belied that. “I just think I ought to get some sleep now.”

It occurred to him that she might be retreating for some solo time, since her aroma definitely was suggesting she was also aroused. “Can I ask you to do something, since I have a theory, and I’d like you to test it out for me?” He tried to hide the cringe at his inadvertent pun. 

She was intrigued, and stopped in the doorway to hear him out. “I might do if you ask me nicely. What experiment do you want me to do for you?”

Oh dear! Now he had to explain himself, and this could end up with him being slapped in the next thirty seconds. “You mentioned that the TARDIS had provided you with certain means. Do you think you could use it when you get into bed?”

“Are you really suggesting…?!” She was momentarily appalled. How had he known her intentions? “I might do, but don’t expect me to write up a full report.”

“Thank you,” he sighed in relief. “If I don’t mention it again, it means my theory was totally wrong.”

She threw him a ‘you are totally bonkers, you mean’ look, and then left him sitting there alone.

-o-o-

He had only got as far as brushing his teeth when a familiar sensation started within his groin. A delightfully enticing sensation of soft hands gripping him intimately, urging him on with tender caresses and rubbing the sensitive tip just so. This was it! Time to find out the truth. Biting down on a groan, he made his way out of his bedroom and headed for Donna’s door. As he walked, the feeling gradually intensified, to the point that he was practically hugging the wall by the time he reached her bedroom.

_Yes, yes,yes! Right there. Oh please! More. Give me more. Deeper. Oh God, yes!_

He was close to that longed for heaven, but he had to know; so he cautiously knocked on her door, and called out, “Donna? Are you using it right this second? Please tell me. I won’t walk away until I know.”

“Not that it is any of your business, but yes. Yes I am!” she grumpily yelled back. “Are you satisfied? Now bugger off!”

“Before I do, I need to tell you something about your dildo,” he continued, undeterred. “If I don’t tell you it would make me no better than a rapist.”

The door was suddenly thrust open, and she stood there in only a skimpy nightie. “How would it make you that evil?” she demanded to know. “Been setting up a webcam and selling my image to a bunch of tossers, have you?”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” he hissed through gritted teeth. The primitive urge to force himself upon her and finish the deed was painful, to say the least. “I’m more worried about informed consent.” 

“You what?!” She stood agog. “Are you saying that I was supposed to fill out some sort of form or other?”

“What I am trying to tell you,” he managed to say, grabbing hold of the doorframe to anchor himself, “is that you and I have been making love ever since you came back to the TARDIS.”

“I don’t think we have,” she confidently denied. “I know that we have a bit of UST going on between us but I’m sure I would have noticed if you’d snuck into my room and we’d actually done the deed.”

“That’s where you are wrong,” he insisted. “That device the TARDIS provided you with is not only based on me, but we are psychically linked.”

“In what way?” she queried as she looked back towards the bed in thought. 

“When you use it to arouse yourself, you arouse me too; so that when you finally reach orgasm, I erm…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the damning words.

“You cum,” she finished for him; in more ways than one, she realised. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at him. “How do I really know you are telling the truth and aren’t after a quick jolly?”

He sighed in exasperation. “I suppose I’ll have to show you,” he proclaimed, and proceeded to undo the tie at the waist of his pyjama trousers. In seconds the material laid on the carpet, pooled around his ankles. 

“Whoa there!” she almost shrieked, holding up a hand to hide the image before her. Well, she did… for only two seconds. After that, curiosity took over and she had a proper look. And then she bent down to really look properly at his erect cock. “Would you look at that!” she softly exclaimed, and reached out an exploratory finger to touch him. “You are exactly, and I mean exactly, the same!”

“That’s what I told you,” he petulantly retorted. “The TARDIS made sure that I have been… _thingying_ you.”

She gasped. “Pardon my French, but I would never have thought I’d been secretly fucking you,” she said in wonder. “I mean, you hear about friends with benefits, but this pushes that to a whole new extreme.” The humour of their situation hit her, and she started to giggle. “Only we could be this messed up.”

“Tell me about it,” he readily agreed, laughing along with her. “I’d wondered why I suddenly had the urge to… you know, on a regular basis, and now it’s all crystal clear.”

“It’s staring me right in the face,” she deadpanned. “Okay, lover boy, what does that make us now?”

“I think it makes us just that,” he reasoned. “We are officially lovers.”

“Shouldn’t that depend on some actual bed action between us,” she countered, but she wasn’t ready for his reaction.

“Okay,” he acknowledged, and shut the bedroom door firmly and decisively behind him. “Shall we go to bed?” he asked.

A dark, brooding light within his eyes mesmerised her. Should she actually let him get within her bed? “Is that it? You come waltzing in here and I automatically let you into my bed?” she tried to argue.

“I’ve already been there,” he reasoned. “I have felt every touch of your skin, every caress, every thought as you urged me on to complete you,” he huskily added, stepping out of his pyjama trousers and towards her; planning to continue his seduction. “I could feel how much you loved me moving within you. Yes, I was aware of you wrapped around me. Warm, wet and inviting. God, you feel good!”

“How aware?” she panted, easing towards him.

“You filled my mind; like when we were linked on the Oodsphere,” he explained. “But I thought it was my sexual fantasy, that you would never be interested in me.”

“What if I am?” she breathily asked, desperate to know.

“Oh Donna!” he groaned; and suddenly his hot mouth was on hers, kissing her with ardour and want. 

“Oh Doctor,” she moaned between kisses, as though she were answering his mating cry. THIS was what she had been longing for; this connection with another living being who cared for her just as equally as she cared for him. As soon as they had locked lips he had sent her every ounce of his love for her, and she was eager to return it to the best of her ability.

-o-o-


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I might come back and tweak this ending because I am still not wholly satisfied with it. Ho hum.

“You do realise that jacket has got to go, don’t you,” Donna mocked him. “It really isn’t a good look.”

“But you _were_ looking,” he countered, “and you liked what you saw. Feel free to take it off, if you want, or any other item of your clothing.”

She may have swiped at his arm, she might have not. Who can tell? But she did have a basic need for flesh to flesh contact to satisfy.

Within minutes Donna had undone and pushed off the Doctor’s pyjama jacket, leaving him naked and pressed up enticing against her body as his hands roamed across her back and pulled her bottom onto his lower torso. There was no denying what he wanted or where she wanted him to go. As they continued to trade hot, wet and sensual kisses their desire grew to a fever pitch. 

“Ow, ow, ow!” she yelped when he accidentally managed to half strangle her with the strap of her nightie in his haste to tug it off her body and leave her bare.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he murmured as he kissed her breast in apology. “Ooh, this is beautiful,” he gasped out as he continued to kiss her flesh until his mouth closed over a nipple, and he sucked lightly on it with passion. 

“Is there any way we could do this on the bed?” she asked as she found herself being forced up against the wall. Not exactly a comfortable position, you’ll agree, even if the TARDIS had suddenly added extra padding.

The Doctor looked up at her, mortified. “Yes, of course. I was a bit keen then.”

“I would never have noticed,” she sarcastically and breathily replied. “Whilst we’re having a bit of a break, can I ask: do you have anything?”

“I have lots of things, as you can see,” he explained as he indicated towards his home, somewhat puzzled. “Why are you asking? Planning on a visit to Antiques Roadshow or something?”

“No, you div!” she momentarily blazed. “I’m talking about condoms, since I assume it’s possible for you to get me pregnant.”

“It’s not beyond the bounds of possibility, since one of my former companions had a child with a Gallifreyan within the Citadel,” he reasoned.

“Did they get caught?” she asked.

“Doing what?” he dimly queried. 

“Sex, you blithering idiot!” she retorted. “From what you said, it wasn’t the ideal place to have a quick bunk up.”

“No, oh god no,” he back pedalled. “That’s not what I meant about their union. But back to the point,” he said, clicking his teeth decisively. “It is technically possible for me to impregnate you.”

“Oh now you make it sound like I’m her out of that film Species, except I’m not young, blonde or beautiful,” she considered, “so probably nothing like her at all.”

“But you are,” he insisted as he cupped her face within his hands to gaze lovingly into her eyes. “You to me are young, very beautiful and, best of all, ginger.”

She blushed. “You always make that sound good.”

“Because it is,” he whispered, bringing their mouths back together briefly. “If you prefer, I could use the dildo to arouse you instead, or you can show me how to. We can save a full union for another time.”

“Did you know you are perfect?” she tearfully said, overcome with emotion before logic stepped in. “I mean, this is a definite ‘I bloody love you’ moment.”

His grin could not have been broader. “Not perfect, merely a genius.”

“And so modest too,” she mocked. “Now I don’t know about you, but I rather like the thought of you inside me; if you see what I mean.”

His answering amorous growl was all she needed, but the fact he then propelled them backwards and onto the bed, did him no harm either.

-o-o-

Soon their little role playing game was gaining its welcomed end. The pretence being that the Doctor was actually deeply embedded within her body rather than it being an illusion of some sort; a very realistic psychic one at that.

Letting out soft moans of delight, Donna laid spread out on the bed, legs wide apart, with the Doctor draped over half her body and her feet lightly resting on the bedcovers. One of his hands tenderly kneaded her breast, tweaking her nipple using his fingertips, perfectly in synch with his tongue as it darted to and fro, tasting her mouth and dancing its own dance with her tongue as it mimicked what he would have liked to have been doing lower down. His own physical satisfaction was ably dealt with by the responding sensation caused by the inserted dildo the TARDIS had provided, and Donna’s hands upon it.

After some minutes the urge to also taste her breast caused him to suckle her tender flesh; and she was free to moan as loudly as she liked when his questing fingers found her clit instead, added to her delight.

“Yes, oh yes! Don’t stop. Right there. Deeper. Oh God! Arghhhh.”

On a particularly loud warble, she came, jerking deliciously and clamping down on the pseudo cock. Releasing his hold on her body, the Doctor reached his own peak, groaning with the strain of completion as he finally was allowed to cum.

“Oh Donna! That was fantastic,” he panted, drawing in deep breaths to gain back control over his body. “Molto bene!”

“Are you alright?” she wondered, easing herself away to remove the dildo, and rubbing her ailing legs to stop them complaining about the position they’d been in. 

“Yeah,” he gasped, and planted a big slobbery kiss on her cheek. “Bloody marvellous, thanks to you. I need to clean myself up though. There’s a bit of a mess on you and your covers. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry; that’s normal,” she consoled him. “And you managed to miss most of me.”

Suddenly he grabbed her hands, causing them both to sit up, facing each other, and making her think there’d been an accident or something. It was starting to frighten her, the way he seemed to be steeling himself to explain something horrible. 

Just as she was about to blurt out a question regarding possible alien illnesses, he finally opened his mouth to speak. “Marry me, Donna,” he murmured.

“You what?!” She pulled away and sat stunned on her bed before cautiously pulling a clean looking bit of the covers over herself. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I did!” he proclaimed, feeling rather pleased with himself.

“Ain’t you supposed to shout that out as you cum? You’re a little bit late with the bedroom chat,” she complained, thinking he was doing this as some sort of sick joke.

“Bedroom chat?” he queried with a heavy frown on his face. “What’s bedroom chat?”

“You know; the whole ‘God, you’re beautiful’, ‘you’re the only one I want’, or my particular favourite ‘I love you’. It’s all bollocks, said in the heat of the moment because a bloke when he’s about to cum will say practically anything,” she explained. “Sometimes they even… as in your case, they will ask you to marry them.”

“But I did ask you to marry me!” he protested.

“I noticed. I was there, remember,” she scoffed. Seeing his hurt expression, her voice softened. “Look, I know you mean well, and we’ve just had some amazing sex. And when I say amazing, I mean flipping amazing!” She was pleased to see a satisfied smile appear on his face. “But the point is, you don’t really mean it. It’s all part of the sexual high, and you’ve had a bit of a drought in that department, from what you said.”

He felt so lost. “Don’t I mean it?”

She shook her head. “Marriage proposals are best kept for when you are stone cold sober and not during a sexual act. These things can be misunderstood.”

“I see.” The fact was he didn’t see. But what he wasn’t hearing was an acceptance speech from her, so he wisely concluded that her answer was ‘no’. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Doctor,” she began, tenderly lifting his chin so that he would look her in the eye, “I do love you, and I particularly loved doing this with you, but I can’t take the risk of another engagement to a man who doesn’t really want me.”

That made more sense to him. “I understand, Donna. It must have sounded impetuous. Sorry.”

“Good! I’m glad we’ve got that all sorted out.” She smiled broadly in relief at him. “Now go and clean yourself; and then get dressed. All that pale naked flesh is starting to blind me.”

Giggling, he pecked a kiss on her lips and then strode away. “I’ll be right back, so don’t go away,” he flung over his shoulder. 

But as he walked he started to plot, so finding some specific items on his bed, left there by the TARDIS, confirmed everything he wanted to know.

-o-o-

Jenny was sitting eating her breakfast cereal, mentally comparing various bits of the film they had watched with her father’s current relationship. “Martha,” she began, capturing Martha’s attention away from the morning paper, “how close would you say Dad and Donna are to Harry and Sally in that film?”

“I know they are idiots for not realising they care deeper about each other then they will acknowledge,” Martha reasoned. “What do you see?” she asked, expecting something more observant and hoping for some gossip.

“At the beginning of the film Harry was with someone else but was interested in Sally who then refused him. That’s exactly how it was when Donna met Dad; that Lance bloke got Donna to consider marrying him and Dad was still mooning over the Rose woman, she said,” Jenny considered carefully. “He asked Donna to go with him within hours.”

“To be fair, he asked me to go with him within hours too,” Martha supplied. “He even kissed me.”

“But that was a mere bio-exchange,” Jenny dismissed, not thinking she might be hurting her friend. “Dad said it meant nothing to him.”

“Thanks,” Martha mumbled into her mug of tea as she took a gulp. “What does he say about Donna?”

“That they’re just friends; best friends,” Jenny readily replied. “He has no idea why people think they are married and puts it down to their looking similar in age.”

Martha tilted her head thoughtfully. “I can see that, but obviously he doesn’t know how they act around each other.”

“How would you describe it?” Jenny asked. “I can sense something but I don’t know how to word it.”

“Well…” Martha sat up straighter. “They have this ‘belonging’ vibe that, you know, people who have been married a long time have. Every action attaches them together, even though they aren’t standing directly together. It’s how they position themselves; close but not needing to be touching because that level of intimacy is already established.” She then raised her tea again.

Jenny nodded. “That makes sense. So how regularly do you think they are being intimate?”

There was a choking sound as Martha tried not to spray her tea all over the kitchen. 

Coughing desperately, she managed to say, “I wasn’t implying that I think they are. Quite the opposite. I’m saying they should be intimate; hence my dare.”

“Oh!” Jenny gasped in understanding. “Is my dad likely to have sex with Donna this weekend and then discover they disliked it, like Harry and Sally did?” she anxiously wondered.

“No.” Martha smiled confidently. “I expect them to burst in here and tell us they are engaged. That’s why you and I are going to make a cake this morning.”

“Really?!” Jenny practically squealed in excitement. “I can hardly wait!”

-o-o-

Jenny jumped up as soon as the materialising TARDIS appeared in Martha’s living room. She could hardly wait for the doors to open and her dad appear. The Doctor stepped out first, beaming widely at her before scooping her into a hug. “Hello! Did you have fun?”

“I did,” Jenny enthused, “and I made a cake, with Martha’s help.”

“Any of those hugs going spare?” a fond female voice pondered.

Jenny turned and saw Donna smiling at her. “Donna!” she cried and launched herself at the woman. “What have you been doing?”

“Missing you for a start,” Donna replied, returning the hug. “I assume that’s the only bit you care about.”

Giggling, Jenny reached out a hand towards her father. “I do, but I want to know if you both had a good time.”

“It was good, very good.” The Doctor grinned broadly, and then caught sight of Martha.

There were immediate hugs all round again. 

“So? How did the dates go?” Martha asked eagerly.

“Swimmingly!” Donna declared. “We managed to get drenched, treated like dinner, and also insulted because I’ve got ginger hair. All your average daily stuff really.”

“Come and tell us all about it,” Jenny insisted, grabbing hold of her hand to drag her through into the kitchen.

“Well, if you insist,” Donna agreed with amusement. 

Her amusement soon faded when she saw how Jenny was attempting to make a pot of tea some minutes later. Standing up to take over, she griped, “Do it right, love, or not at all.”

To her surprise, the Doctor took hold of her forearm, stopping her from walking away from the kitchen table they’d been seated at. “Donna, talking of doing things right…” He then got down onto his knees.

“What are you doing down there? Get up,” she demanded in embarrassment when he stayed knelt on the floor tiles there, looking up at her adoringly.

Instead he gently took her hand in his before producing a tiny velvet blue box from his pocket. “Donna Noble, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

Both Martha and Jenny shrieked in excitement, clasping their hands over their mouths lest they say something to ruin the scene before them. 

“I…” Donna stood stunned, feeling his fingers tenderly caress her hand as his eyes begged for an answer. How could she crush such an honourable and way too sexy gentleman? Not when she loved him enough to stay forever before all this. “Yes,” she near whispered. “Oh, yes please!”

As he rose up to embrace her, everything else became a blur as a dazzling ring was placed on her finger, excited squeals took over, congratulatory hugs given, and celebratory cake dished out.

-o-o-

“Hello,” Donna whispered when she found the Doctor standing outside her bedroom door; and they both peered down the corridor to see if Jenny had seen anything.

Fortunately she was nowhere in sight, so the Doctor quickly stepped in and shut the door; asking the TARDIS to lock it behind him, just in case. This time he had come prepared with his bedtime supplies. “I erm… I came prepared,” he quietly informed her, holding out the evidence.

“So I see.” She examined his hand with interest. Within it were five packets that were presumably condoms of some sort. “Were they provided by the TARDIS too?”

“As well as your ring you mean?” he sought to clarify. “Well… I suppose I could say yes in the circumstances. I’d already chosen the ring I would have proposed to you with, some time ago. She merely provided the goods.”

Donna frowned. “But that’s the ring I pointed out to you on Tradjadec that time we were trapped in the shopping mall. It was ages ago!”

“And I remembered,” he stated smugly. Pointing at his head, he added, “It was all safely stored away in here.”

She was impressed despite herself. “So why didn’t you tell Martha that when she asked you where you got the ring? Why the longwinded tale of sneaking back to Earth?”

“I erm…” He looked rather worried for a second until he realised that she was only curious rather than annoyed. “It sounded better than saying my ship almost planned it all, and there are some things better left to only being known by us.”

“That is very true,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck in order to draw his lips closer. “Like how I am going to reward you for making me feel so special by treating you to the sensation of being inside me in two ways at the same time.”

“You’re not proposing… _anal_ , are you?” he wondered in hushed and horrified tones.

“No, you numpty,” she replied, and darted out her tongue to lick salaciously along her lip. “I have the feeling you might like some oral.”

“How would that work?” he asked in interest and pretend ignorance.

“Why don’t I show you,” she suggested, and led him over to the bed. 

“Only if I can reciprocate,” he slowly pronounced, popping the ‘p’ as he did so.

Giggling with sheer delight, Donna proclaimed, “I think I will get to love you a great deal by the end of all this.”

-o-o-

“Dad!” Jenny yelled enthusiastically as she practically burst into the TARDIS kitchen the following morning to be greeted by the sight of her father and future stepmother. “Dad! I finally know why that woman said ‘I’ll have what she’s having’ in that film we all watched the other night.” She stood trembling with excitement at her newly found knowledge. “Donna was pretending to enjoy coitus with someone last night. Am I right?” She turned her eager gaze onto Donna. “There was loads of moaning and then you were shouting ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ at one point, closely followed by silence. So I assume you were eating.”

“Well,” Donna spluttered and sought guidance from the Doctor. 

The shocked expression on his face would have told her he had no answer, but the horrified whimper from him definitely confirmed it. 

She then quietly admitted, “There was _some_ eating…”

“I knew it!” The girl beamed with satisfaction. “What’s the matter, Dad?” Jenny suddenly wondered with deep concern. “Didn’t you know that Donna was practising her sexual intercourse strategy?”

“Sorry about that. Funnily enough…,” Donna started to explain, but she was hastily interrupted.

“Jenny, I have, or should I say, WE have a confession to make,” the Doctor began to say, gulping nervously. 

Donna geared herself up to be mortified in the next ten seconds; but she couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth next. 

“It was apple pie. Donna has this midnight feast craving sometimes, so we had some apple pie,” he said lamely.

Jenny looked heartbroken. “Why didn’t you save some for me?”

“It was apple with cloves,” he declared.

Her face instantly scrunched up in disgust. “Ew! I can’t stand cloves in apple pie! No, you can keep that to yourselves in the future.”

“Shame we bought so many then,” he continued to lie. “We’ll have to find you an alternative in the future.”

“Rightio!” Jenny cheerily acknowledged, and turned towards the toaster before she could spot Donna glaring at him. “When will the wedding be?” she airily asked as she grabbed some bread.

“There’s hardly any rush…”

“We thought the next planet, or when we return to Earth,” Donna put in, enjoying seeing him squirm.

“Yes, dear,” he mumbled in resignation.

-o-0-o-


End file.
